More Than I Ever Anticipated
by Nukelele
Summary: Harry is scared, Luna is scared. With this war taking it's toll on everyone, people are attaching themselves to others they never thought they would.


Staring at the ceiling hours feels like minutes and minutes feel like hours. Time becomes nothing, nothing becomes time. The eerie glow of the muggle alarm clock I brought to the Weasley's looks strange in the growing darkness around me. Nothing is moving, nothing is making noise and everything is as still and silent as the swamp on a warm summer's day. It is haunting yet comforting. The clock reads three AM and I try desperately to succumb to the release that is sleep but it doesn't come.

Then I see a flicker of movement out of my peripheral vision. Outside of the window in the cold damp night something is there, something outside my window, something alive. Curiosity getting the better of me I check, I look, I peep out of my window wondering if I was just seeing things. I catch it again, down near some tall, wispy weeds a small creature walking, wandering, wobbling around the swamp. It's just a gnome, an everyday garden gnome. The boys will have to fling it over the hedge tomorrow. I wonder if it knows its fate. It probably does.

I slink back into bed and surround myself in blankets until only my face is showing and one small piece of unruly, curly blonde hair. I wish Hermione was here, or Ginny. We usually share a room. They would keep me company. They would make me feel safe, secure, home. Instead Hermione was upstairs with Ron, Ginny was in the room she usually shared with Fleur, but Fleur was presumably in bed with Bill. Hermione is upstairs feeling safe in her lover's embrace, Ginny is sound asleep while I am here, petrified and exhausted and alone.

Suddenly a noise fills the house, and then more. Heavy footsteps, thudding, thunking, plunking down the rickety stairs and they are coming towards me. I feel every pace as the steps creak and the vibrations roam throughout the house. I wonder who it could be. Was I alone in this house awake, or has sleep been escaping another? There must be another who is not blissfully dreaming as one is descending the staircase.

Then, the footsteps cease. Deafening silence fills the home once more and I exhale slowly, trying to release every emotion keeping me conscious. The door creaks open and I inhale sharply, my senses on high alert like they have been ever since things started happening and people started disappearing and he started again. The door pushes open further and hair the colour of the outside sky reveals the hidden identity of footstep man. It is only Harry.

He looks at me and I gaze back in silence. His eyes show surprise, possibly because I am awake at this hour and he must have assumed I was sleeping soundly. He immerses himself fully in the room before closing the door slowly, careful not to make a noise. With his back still turned he whispers softly, barely audible "You're still awake?"

I nod before realizing he remains facing the door. "Yeah, I can't sleep" I say in a soft, raspy voice as my throat is lacking moisture from keeping my mouth slightly ajar all night.

He turns back around and I study my best friend. He is no longer the slightly lanky boy I used to know, the one who was amazed by all magic kind and loved surprises at every turn. This boy was now a man, a seventeen year old man who, mentally, was not seventeen at all. His eyes filled with so much exhaustion and wear, his shoulders broad with few scars and that vivid scar on his forehead prickling every five minutes. A prickle used to be news, now it is every day. One thing hasn't changed though, his hair, still black as night and stuck up in all random directions. This has been made worse by his apparent tossing and turning upstairs.

"Hermione and Ron are upstairs. I felt like I was intruding so I came down here to spend the night with you. I hope you don't mind" He informed me as if I hadn't been aware of the absence of Hermione and her soft snores.

"I don't mind, no" was all I tell him before he starts toward the opposite bed to lie down.

He pulls back the covers slowly, as he is still clearly drowsy from his half sleep. So am I. I cover my head with blankets and try to find release once more. Somehow though, with the added comfort of my best friend in the room, I manage to find it, grab it and I try not to let go.

I let go. I awaken with a sudden start. I am wide awake, hearing sounds, seeing lights and touching soft sheets and blankets begging me not to let go. I let go. I let go of what I've been desperately seeking all night, sleep. I hear someone whispering in my ear "Luna". Once again I realize, it is simply Harry.

"What?" I ask him, my voice crackling, as if I had swallowed a handful of popping candy. Why did I let him wake me up? I had finally slept, the clock read four AM.

"I'm scared" He's scared? Scared of what? Then it all comes crashing down on me and I realize I am scared too. He's gone all philosophical on me. He is thinking in broader terms. Suddenly I feel important, I am not sure why. Perhaps it is because he chose to divulge these inner thoughts to me. I must be special.

"I'm scared too Harry, but it's four AM. Isn't there another time to be scared?" I am such a hypocrite but I need this sleep. In three hours or so I will have to get up, get up and face the day. I never know now what each day will bring.

"No, I'm definitely scared now. I'm leaving soon. What if I don't come back? What if I'm gone forever?" His voice was anxious, quavering with every word "It's not fair it's me, I didn't choose this."

"No, you didn't choose this Harry, but you are the chosen one. It's normal to be afraid, given the circumstances. I trust you Harry, I believe you can do it." I try to reassure him, I need to comfort him and I need to sleep.

Then blankets start moving and he starts moving. I am facing the wall so I can only go by sound. By the sounds of it, he's getting up. A thud on the floor confirms this theory. Then I hear three more heavy footsteps before my bed sinks down on one side. He is sitting on the end of my bed. Harry Potter is sitting on the end of my bed, in only a pair of boxer shorts. Why do I still want to go to sleep?

"You're going to be okay Luna, I know that. What, with all of you back at Hogwarts banded together! It's going to be rough but you can do it, I assure you. Of course I have to end up third wheeling for months on end though. I wish you could come with me. I don't want to risk losing you but I'll miss you. I'm not going to lie, I used to think you were crazy, but now you're one of my best friends. You never pretend to be something you're not, you never lie, and you're always there to support me. You're unique and I really like it. Most people think you'd be better with Neville, and he really likes you but sometimes I think about us you know? Just sometimes, not a lot, but sometimes"

I interrupt him "Harry are you drunk?"

"No I'm not drunk! I'm just full of nerves and I'm frightened about everything and I might be blown up tomorrow and I'm supposed to be brave for everyone but who is going to be brave for me?" he asked me and I lay there dumbfounded, for I didn't have an answer for him "Luna, turn over please"

I haul my body into a new position and I look up at him. He's sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He looks utterly distraught. My heart panged in my chest. Without thinking I sit up. He slowly turns to face me. I inch closer; every breath in my chest draws tighter and tighter. I reach for his hand and grab it in my own. He grabs back; clinging on to something, clinging on to me.

I fall back into my bed; my head hits the pillow softly, my hair going everywhere. Harry lurches forward at my tug. "Is this an invitation?" He questions me, uncertain on how to proceed.

"Maybe I'm scared too and I find when I'm scared having you there makes it better" I tell him and I can't say anything else before he slips under the covers with me.

I lift my head and he pushes some of my hair back giving him somewhere to lay his head. He picks right in front of my face. His toes stretch down past mine, after he loops one of his legs between my own. One arm goes slowly around my middle. I am suddenly acutely aware of how little I have on. Then I remember how much he is wearing. I smile. I run one hand over his chest. It is smooth however it is interrupted multiple times by scars. He is solid underneath his skin. I need something solid right now; something to cling to while everything is falling out from under me.

He presses his forehead to mine, his green eyes staring intently into my blue ones. His nose is still straight from the time I fixed it. I liked it better when it was more crooked. It made him look different, more rebellious; sexier. His mouth is turned into somewhat of a smile but his eyes are still fearful. I see the remnants of tears near the outer corners of his eyes. I take the hand that was just on his chest and wipe it away; then I place my fingers over his scar "Famous Harry Potter, you're much more than that"

"Loony Lovegood, you're way more than I ever anticipated"


End file.
